


Four, Two,  Six, Twelve

by espritneo



Series: I'm keeping you [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF James Bond, Consensual Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Protective Q (James Bond), Scent bonds, Shameless Smut, drug induced heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espritneo/pseuds/espritneo
Summary: The quartermaster is in medical. He entered a feral episode approximately four hours after your abduction.Bond is drugged and abducted mid-mission. He wakes up to find the quartermaster incapacitated and R urging him back to London.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: I'm keeping you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035882
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	Four, Two,  Six, Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> I'd say this is a future-fic after [Attention](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27490489), with Bond and Q in a firmly established relationship.
> 
> This was originally written as V. of Attention and scrapped for having a different tone. Also, this is pretty filthy and I'm not sure how I feel about this LOL.

Bond came to with a whopping headache and his body bruised and a little broken. He cracked an eye open and squinted into the dark. 

“Welcome, Omega.” A soft voice greeted pleasantly, its accent adding a lilting quality. Bond took a deep breath and rolled over. 

Alpha.

Good.

He was in the mood for a fight.

He was in motion before his eyes opened. He lunged off one leg and delivered a sickening kick, followed up by an uppercut designed to catch the crumpling body in the chin. 

He caught the other man and carefully lowered the body down to the ground. The alpha’s pockets were empty save for Bond’s earpiece and a switchblade. He hefted the weapon absently in thought.

The last thing he recalled was ordering dinner at a bistro in Monte Carlo. They must have drugged his food and he hadn’t even tasted it.

His eyes adjusted to the dimness. He was alone in a stone-walled room with low ceilings. Three stone steps led to the only door. Light streamed in through a crack in the doorway. None of these were signs of a secure imprisonment. At least, not a well trained -6 agent.

Exactly what had they planned?

He inserted his earpiece and pressed the unmarked capacative switch. 

R’s voice came through. “007. 007, do you copy? Repeat, come in, 007.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been attempting to make contact for hours.

“Where’s Q?” He asked a little suspiciously.

“He’s a bit indisposed.” R answered in her no-nonsense tone. “I’m acting head of Q-branch. Listen to me, Bond. If at all possible, return to London posthaste. I’ll be in your ear and I’ll provide route assistance, but please _do not deviate._ ” 

His heart kicked up. “Do you have my extraction site?” He wrenched the doorknob off, but crouched for a moment, listening. When only R’s reply came through, he ducked into a hallway and paced north under R’s direction. They almost never worked together, but today they were of the same mind: Something was wrong with Q. R knew and wasn’t telling until extraction. Ergo, Bond wasn’t interested in taking the long way home.

Getting out of the building was his problem. Bond paused at every corner. The first one was male, stocky, weight offset to the left. Bond timed the deep, stilted tread of his footsteps and sprung around the corner as the man lifted his right foot. Unable to react, the man flinched as Bond’s knife pierced the underside of his jaw.

Bond pulled the knife out and wiped it on the body as it crumpled. He wiped a hand over his damp forehead. Footsteps echoed further down. Bond flattened himself against the wall and crept forward on the balls of his feet. He fingered the blade. Too blunt to serve as a projectile. The hall was exposed. The enemy would beat him around the corner.

He jumped and hoisted himself up a high window ledge. He opened the awning, squeezed himself through the gap, flipped and landed lightly on a balcony.

R guided him across several others, ultimately scaling down a fire escape ten minutes south.

The car was at the end of the alley. He slid inside. “R, talk to me.” He carefully bit back the order implied in his tone.

R didn’t pretend she didn’t know what he wanted. “The quartermaster is in medical. He entered a feral episode approximately four hours after your abduction. The doctor is keeping him sedated for his own safety. What happened at the _Cafe de Paris_?”

“My best guess is that the food was drugged with a chemical I couldn’t detect. R, they knew my designation.” 

R’s pause was heavy. “Bond, I’m altering your flight plan. Your helicopter will land at a private airfield and we’ll charter a plane back to London. I don’t wish to alarm you, but are any of your senses particularly sensitive?”

Bond thought back. “Yes. Taste and smell.” He frowned, aware of what he was implying. He wasn’t in _heat_. “R, why is this important?”

The acting quartermaster ignored him. “As I suspected. We’ll run the appropriate tests to be certain, but let’s agree that seclusion is the best avenue for you until you arrive.”

—

Somewhere over the channel, the discomfort made itself apparent and Bond was forced to acknowledge that his situation was dire. His gut was angry, he was hot and sweaty, his clothes chafed and the cabin just smelled _wrong_ \- chemical and impersonal and not Q. He fought to keep the anxiety contained under his skin and off his face, his casual sprawl.

Thank Christ he wasn’t wet. _Yet_.

He knocked back the paracetamol and followed it up with 50mL of Grey Goose. The drugs did little to curb his rising temperature _or_ his desire to strip naked and touch himself. But they did dull the heat-cramps to a bearable ache.

Bond fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of hands that stroked him possessively but they were not the ones he wanted.  
He dreamed of scents that elicited half-forgotten experiences - _of sand, salt, heat_ \- of times he took, and he took, and he _took_ and was never taken. 

He landed at half-past four in the morning. A black unmarked SUV waited on the tarmac. 

Dr. Whickam intercepted him with a frown and a long, obvious sniff. 

“You’re drunk, 007. And you’ve sweated the blockers off. Were you accosted at any point on your trip?” He turned James’ wrist over, pushed his sweat-soaked sleeve up and fitted him with a blood pressure cuff. His assistant jabbed a 23-gauge needle into a vein on his other arm and withdrew a blood sample.

“Heart rate 125, BP 120 over 75.” He ushered Bond into the SUV and ordered the driver to move quickly. He injected a vial into Bond’s arm. “I’m giving you an anti-arrhythmic, Bond. Tyler, start a supplementary drip at maintenance level based on patient’s weight.”

Their voices drifted into the background. 

“How’s Q?”

They were all startled by the sound of his voice, none more so than Bond himself. Whickam recovered quickly.  
“The quartermaster’s vitals are need-to-know, 007.”

“And I’m his scent-bonded. I need to know what to expect.”

“When the quartermaster was brought into medical, he had already been injected with an emergency dose of tranquilizer. We were able to collect blood and saliva samples before he regained consciousness and attempted to injure himself and some of our residents. So, for the time being, I put him in a medically induced coma.”

“What are the results?”

“The quartermaster had elevated levels of alphasterone, as expected, noradrenaline and corticotropin-releasing hormones. He also had below average levels of oxytocin for a scent-bonded alpha. In short, your bond stimulated a protective reaction and was not sufficient to temper his aggressive behavior.” 

“And myself? Why do I have heat symptoms? What does Q-branch know that they’re not telling me?”

“It’s not that they’re withholding information from you, Bond. Q-branch has provided me with all the medically relevant details of your mission. Your end of the comms went silent and R shares your belief that you were most likely drugged. Q continued to monitor your environment on a private line while we mobilized an extraction unit. We might have reached you sooner, but your abductors had you on the move almost immediately and had a head start of several hours.”

“None of that explains _this_.” Bond snarled, at the end of his patience.

“I’m getting there, 007.” The SUV pulled into the parking garage. Loss of street lighting combined with shadows of large pillars cast yellow and black stripes over the car’s occupants. “No one knows _why_ you’re in heat. But nothing draws out an alpha’s feral state quite like a mate in heat.”

—

They brought him into a private double-occupancy with an attached toilet. The quartermaster was cuffed to the bed on the far side, draped with a sheet and flanked by a heart monitor and EEG. According to Whickam, he would wake up at any moment. 

Bond locked the door. He stood by the empty bed and stripped down to his skin, draping each piece carefully. The tailored clothes were mostly damp and sooty, soaked through with his own sweat and slick. There was no sign that his abductors had manhandled his unconscious body. This only added to the puzzle of why, exactly, had he been taken.

“James,” Q rattled his cuffs. Bond covered the distance in two strides and freed his scent-bonded. “Please come here.” Q immediately tugged, signaling he wanted James to join him on the bed.

“You,” James climbed up and loomed over his boyfriend. “Are excessively overprotective.”

Q swallowed. “Yes, I know.” He stroked the back of a finger over James’ strong nose. “I could hear them,” he admitted and James’ insides went cold. “Before they found the earpiece. They were talking about what they wanted to do with you.”

“The doctor’s going to want you on intercom.” He pressed the button next to the bed. “I need Whickam.” He waited. Q pulled him closer until he was within reach, firmly sitting on the alpha’s abdomen. James closed his eyes briefly in relief at having Q’s fingers drift over his torso, soothing the ache in his gut. He was half-hard and _oh so wet_.

“Yes, Bond.” Whickam’s voice came from the speakers. But it was Q who replied.

“Bond was drugged with a slow-acting bonding stimulant. It induces heat and other behaviors that encourage mating. One of the men mentioned his scent, so his blockers must be losing efficacy. Is Tanner on the line?” 

“Yes, Q.” The Chief of Staff chimed in.

“It was an accident that Bond was targeted by omega traffickers. Once he was identified as omega, they slipped a drug into his meal. Their plans were to induce an artificial heat in _omega boot camp_.” Q shook in anger. “I have no further information as the earpiece was discovered shortly after. However, I do have its last known location.”

“R can do you one better,” Tanner interrupted. “Bond was able to recover his earpiece and establish communication with R as acting Quartermaster. Don’t worry, Q,” the alpha said lowly. “You and James get better and by then, we’ll have all the information you need.”

Q locked eyes with James. He nodded slowly. “Very well.” One hand started to stroke James’ hardness. James swallowed a moan, his body picking up with interest. Q jerked his head towards the intercom. “We’re going dark, gentlemen. We’ll see you in a few days.”

James slid the safety lock into position. It wouldn’t do to accidentally broadcast his heat, even if enough of Medical knew exactly why they were in this room.

He rocked on the sheet, pushing his stiffening cock into the circle of Q’s fingers. 

“Your turn, 007.” Q said sternly. “Status report, please.”

_Oh, the bloody cheek_. James leaned in little and purred, “We know one part of me is working very well.” 

Q’s lip turned up in a knowing smile. “I’d say two parts,” fingers traced his rim and dipped inside, making him inhale. “Are in full order.” 

Q twisted his fingers gently and thumbed the head of James’ dick. “Status report, Bond.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” _Christ._ James greedily pushed back onto those lovely long digits and clenched in delight. “I’m unharmed. I suspect I was treated as a commodity during transport. I wasn’t touched sexually.”

The relief on his face warmed James all over. Q met him halfway with a particularly inspired maneuver that brought him onto his toes. 

“Come, flip with me,” Q rearranged them on the bed. The sheet tumbled into the background, unneeded and unwanted. 

James gripped his alpha’s nape. “Are you ready? Can you get inside?” He reached down, found Q hard, and he whined. “I’ve been empty for hours, Q. I need it.”

“Not yet,” Q moved down to get a better look, ignoring James’ protesting wiggle. Fingers parted his cheeks and palpated his hole, followed by Q’s talented tongue. James moaned at the slick, mobile invasion, thighs parting of their own accord. He loved getting rimmed and Q ate him out with such gusto.

Once he was satisfied, Q removed his clothes and confidently made space for himself between James’ thighs.

James nudged up impatiently, catching the head in his opening and relished the frisson over sensitive nerves. 

“Oh, _yes_ ,” He groaned as Q slid his cock in. He grinned fiercely. He loved this alpha that he could be open with. “I want it hard, Q. I want you to put your back into it.” 

“I’ll give you what you need, James. Everything you need,” Q promised, drawing back and giving James his cock with a hard shove. “Because you’re _mine_. And when you’ve come, I’m going to make you come again. And again. Until you’re sore and you feel so good, I’ve ruined you for anyone else. And then while you’re still tied to me, I’m going to spend some time right here,” he traced the dip on James’ throat. “Until I can’t forget what you smell like when I’ve satisfied you with my cock.” 

“Like this? Face to face?” James had the presence of mind to check. “I’m too heavy for you.” 

“Hush,” Q knelt up and took James’ cock in hand. James hiccuped as the new angle pressed against his walls and arched eagerly to feel that friction again. “Worry about that later. Right now, I want your orgasm.” He used James’ slick and precome to take great silky pulls on the omega’s cock until James shivered and locked up with the quietest gasp. 

“That’s one, love.” Q pumped into him relentlessly, giving him no quarter with his post-orgasm sensitivity. 

James met him in speed and power, his reckless double-00 brain translating the electric jolts into a fight. His erection was stiff in no time and he tumbled into a weak afterthought of an orgasm in less than five minutes. 

Q promptly pulled out.

“Q!” He growled in outrage. 

“I find all aspects of your psyche attractive, James. But there’s no room right now for your training, not in this bed. Stop fighting me.” 

He mounted his omega, pinning the broader man so that all their weight rested on James’ shoulders. They locked gazes; James shivered uncontrollably, his heat creeping into his awareness. His mating gland tingled.

“We might call that two. But let’s see how well I do from now on.” 

— 

Time dissolved into an inconsequential fog. 

Q eased him into cooperating by flipping him over and skimming his fingers over the slick running down his thighs. James was hoisting himself up, tucking his knees underneath, before he could even think about rebelling. 

Q rewarded him with broad swirling passes over his hole, lapping up the mixture of slick and precome. James tightened his gut eagerly, anticipating that moment of initial, wet penetration. He mentally prodded Q to go faster, but didn’t dare rush the alpha aloud. 

Q seemed content with cleaning him off. The heat was still a low simmer under his skin, easy to appease by having his alpha present and attending to his comfort. His hedonistic side, however, was eager for more stimulation. James reached back to signal his readiness. 

His fingers spasmed in midair. James whined in surprise at the sensation of a hot, wet muscle slipping past the outer muscle and not just over. Q growled and his tongue probed him deep, sucking on the opening and making obscene squelching sounds. 

His legs shook with the effort of holding himself up, his palms sweaty and slipping on the sheets. James panted into his forearm, muffled heaving exhales that rang high-pitched in his eardrums. It dawned on him that he was saying Q’s name, over and over, pleading and fighting the urge to scream. He could smell their musk thick in the air, surrounding him and making his head spin. 

He was perspiring profusely now, the heat kick-starting and climbing to the peak in response to alpha interest. His muscles were loosening and his brain was losing its iron control. James moaned in surrender, trusting the locked door, trusting Q to take him apart and to call him to action if Bond was needed. 

Q inhaled and rubbed his cheek all over his ass, smearing his slick all over James, his own face. James flashed hot and needy as his imagination gave him an image of his alpha, curls in disarray, lips red and swollen, face filthy with their fluids. 

James made a low sound and stretched himself out, head and shoulders prostate, back arched. His slick poured out generously, running down his inner thighs, over his taint and balls, and dripping on the sheets. 

“You’re perfect, James,” Q was breathing rapidly, tasting his slick with quick flicks of the tongue. His fingers massaged his taint, stimulating his prostate from the inside and James shouted, his mating gland aching, his cock kicking against his stomach as he came. 

“That’s three,” James dimly heard over the pounding of his heart. He lay flat on his belly, legs akimbo, heavy and sticky. Elegant hands spread him open and Q breached him painlessly, punching out a delirious groan. 

His alpha was inside him all the way to the root, his heavy sac tickling his perineum. They were touching from head to toe, Q’s legs enfolding his legs, Q’s arms draped over his own. The alpha nudged his head and nibbled contentedly at his neck, licking conscientiously around the swollen gland. His hips ground in lazy circles and figure eights. 

Sated and safe, James dozed off. This time, his dreams were more sweet, with Q mouthing industriously at his neglected mating gland, an equal give and take of pleasure, curled up in the center of their blended scents. 

“Was I out long?” He grunted, waking with another wave of heat. 

“No,” Q was already using his hole. The alpha eased more of his weight on his knees and rearranged James’ hips to a convenient angle. “Thirty minutes at most.” 

All rational thought dissolved into sparks as Q brushed against his prostate and simultaneously gripped his nape in a delicate bite. Q trailed after his goosebumps with lazy, biting kisses, his cock hitting James’ prostate with unerring precision.

James curled his toes helplessly. He rutted against the filthy sheets, basking in the ecstasy of attending his primal instincts. 

“I love the way you feel, the way you smell.” Q murmured. “You smell so… _dissatisfied_. You want to come again, don’t you? You’re not in a rush, but you’re so looking forward to it, the anticipation is eating you alive.” 

James moaned in agreement. His heat was spiking, arousal coalescing at his core and winding its way through his limbs in restless twitches. His gland begged for attention. 

Q straightened his legs side by side and pinned them together, constricting James’ channel and his cock. 

“Oh, Christ, James,” Q gasped, his hips stuttering. “You’re so tight. So good.” 

Q’s dick was squeezed inside him, scraping his insides until he could feel every dragging millimeter. It took James’ arousal and spun it out into infinity, a moment in time that stretched forever while he struggled to breathe. 

He came soundlessly, clamping down on Q. The alpha cursed and held on while James mindlessly fucked himself dry.

“Alright there, love?” Hands wiped hair, sweat and tears off his face. Q put a straw to his lips and made him drink, then toweled him down. James forced his mouth to move. 

“Aren’t you going to come in me?” 

“One more time, love.” Q pressed a loving kiss on his lax lips. “Rest if you need to." 

Q was asleep the next time his heat spiked, reclined in the pillows with James curled up on his chest. 

James mouthed his way down to his alpha’s half-hard cock. He wondered if it had ever gone down. 

His mouth watered and he immediately took the plump flesh into his mouth, down to the base. Q tasted like soap and water, with a hint of his own musk, suggesting the alpha had only wiped himself down. James hummed with satisfaction, working his tongue in circles until the essence of them saturated his taste buds. 

His hole was hot and empty and the itch to be filled, to be bitten, buzzed under his skin. But having his alpha’s cock in his mouth soothed his omega instincts. He sucked almost meditatively, feeling Q thicken and grow longer, working his way down James’ throat. 

Q woke right as his balls started to constrict. “Stop,” he gasped. James clambered up and mounted him. 

“Good nap?” Q asked. “You’re alert again.” 

“I want you to fuck me and come in me,” James bit down on Q’s collarbone and followed up with a soothing lick. “You owe me and I’m collecting.” 

His alpha had the same feral light in his eyes. James gave a teasing swivel of the hips. “Come on, aren’t you ready to claim me? Stuff me full with your knot?” He kissed him hard, fucking himself down with short, furious strokes. 

Q growled. “I was _going_ to make you sit on my cock and come without moving.” James went hot at the thought. His cock kicked. “But, you’re very persuasive. And I’ve been hard for two hours.” 

Throat tight with gratitude, James pressed their interlaced fingers against the wall and crushed their lips together, tongue tracing the seam and, once Q parted his lips, dipping inside to express his feelings more eloquently. Their bodies moved in sync as James used his considerable skill-set to communicate just how much he loved and appreciated this most selfless of alphas who would prioritize his omega’s needs over his own. 

“You can touch me here,” He tilted his head, pushing his mating gland towards his lover’s mouth. Q’s eyes flickered uncertainly and his movements slowed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I trust you,” James bore down and Q obligingly picked up the pace. He could feel the alpha’s knot swelling. He offered his neck again and was wholly unprepared for the live wire that was Q’s enthusiasm. 

Q treated the tender skin to a series of licks and nips that short-circuited James’ brain and caused his balls to convulse. He had never allowed anyone to touch his gland, not even Vesper, and he had no defenses for this type of stimulation. He hung over his alpha, frozen, at the mercy of sharp teeth awakening disused pleasure centers. 

“Five.” The room spun and James looked up, feeling cross-eyed, still coming. His entire body felt deliciously used, coursing with endorphins, his head temporarily abated. Q gave his gland an appreciative suck, making him whine, and buried his nose. “You smell so _satisfied_.” His voice was proud. “My turn.” 

“Yes,” James somehow found the energy to hiss. Q’s knot bumped into his rim and he bore down, trying to catch it. They groaned in relief as the hard flesh penetrated and held, tying them together. Q pumped him full of his seed, knot tugging jerkily at his sensitive rim. 

_What a magnificent creature_ , he thought. _And he’s mine._

—

“Wickham, here.” 

Q kept his voice down, leaning closer to the speaker. “Bond’s symptoms are disappearing.” 

“His system is metabolizing the drug. Take a blood sample and leave it in the hallway. I’ll have a resident come by immediately. Do you need anything?” 

“Just my laptop from Q-branch. And and change of clothing for us both. Continued privacy, please.” 

“Of course, Q.”

— 

Q had the laptop on an overbed rolling table and was deep in fixing scripts when his partner stirred. He glanced down at the blonde puddle on his lap. James had his head pillowed on one thigh, arms loosely curled around his legs. 

“Your heat eased after six hours,” He reported without prompting, continuing to type one handedly while running blunt nails through fair strands. “We have been in this room for nearly twelve hours.” 

James clumsily patted the closest bit of skin. 

“They left a change of clothes in the hallway.” Q jerked his chin towards the spare bed. 

“Let’s go home.” The agent’s voice was tired, raspy. 

“Home?” 

“Yes,” James yawned and smushed his face into his soft belly. “Your flat. Home.” 

His words hung in the air definitively. 

END 


End file.
